


never to part, baby of mine

by millijayne13



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fred Weasley Lives, Parenthood, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:22:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27291145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millijayne13/pseuds/millijayne13
Summary: baby mine, don't you crybaby mine, dry your eyesrest your head close to my heartnever to partbaby of mine- Betty Noyes, Baby Mine (Dumbo, 1941)
Relationships: Fred Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Fred Weasley/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	never to part, baby of mine

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my Tumblr @iliveiloveiwrite
> 
> Warnings: nightmares, comfort, mentions of pregnancy, time skip
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a kudos and a comment if you enjoyed!

The song had been passed down through your family. Your grandmother had sung it to your mother when she was just a babe, and your mother had sung it to you when you were born and in need of comfort.

The song had been sung to you in times of struggles and in times of upset. When the only other option was tears, you quietly went through the song in your head, hearing both your mother and your grandmother reciting the words along with you.

_Baby Mine_ would always be with you; it would always be that one song that no matter the situation, could provide one form of comfort or another.

Meeting Fred only proved that.

It hadn’t been long after the end of the Second Wizarding War when you first clapped eyes on the Weasley twin; catching a glimpse of him as you strolled through Diagon Alley, desperate for a breath of fresh air rather than the stifling air in your office.

All it was, was a glance. A quick flash of his red hair and tall stature before you lost sight of him again, getting caught in the hustle and bustle of the high street.

It was another week until you saw him again; working up the courage to enter his shop and look at the products whilst trying to shyly admire Fred standing behind the till. All it took was a smile. A smile from him for you to be a goner; to fall completely under his spell. If asked, Fred says the exact same thing. You had simply smiled at him, handing over your shopping, and he felt himself become a fool for you.

It took three visits to the shop for Fred to ask you out to dinner. He couldn’t help but laugh lightly as you stuttered your confirmation; taken back by the sudden question asked across a till.

It took one date for Fred to kiss you outside your front door. His lips landed on yours and it was as if all your questions about life and relationships had been answered. As his hand cradled your cheek, all your hopes and dreams had come true. All in this one kiss.

It took four months of dating before Fred let you stay longer than the night.

He had confided to you, early in your relationship, that he was struggling with the aftermath of the war. Night terrors, nightmares and bouts of insomnia – all stemming from the events of the war culminating in his near death experience.

You accepted it all; how could you not? He had bared himself to you in a way he never had with anyone else. You would take him with the rough and the smooth; no matter how hard things could get.

The first nightmare he has with you lying next to him, it takes you no time at all to begin humming the familiar bars to the song once whispered to you by your mother. As you sing the song you have known all your life, you run a hand through his hair, feeling his breathing start to slow, returning to a normal pace. It takes a couple run throughs of the song before Fred feels able enough to draw you into a kiss that practically overflows with his gratefulness of having you by his side.

From there, his nightmares still tormented him, but the aftermath was not suffered alone nor was it so brutal. Before, he would find himself going two, three, four nights with no sleep – silently petrified of what he would find once his eyes slipped close and he fell into his dreams. Now, you were always there, ready and happy to sing the song that had provided you with so much comfort in order to help him find the peace amongst the chaos that had plagued him for so long.

Baby Mine, whilst it provided the needed comfort when the dreams became terrors, also became the song of your relationship. Your love moulded the song; adding depth to the meaning and helping to create moments in your relationship that you would treasure to the end of your days.

\---------

Fred shuffling about in bed starts to wake you; having fallen asleep so deeply, it would take nothing short of a brass band to wake you back up. However, the sudden fidgeting of your husband has you fighting your way back to consciousness.

Half worried that another bout of insomnia has fallen upon him as he continues to heal from the aftermath of the war, you hum sleepily as Fred runs a hand through your hair, “Go back to sleep, love. I won’t be long.”

You roll over to his side, hugging his pillow and humming tiredly once more. Fred cannot help the chuckle that leaves him at the sight of you sprawled diagonally across the bed, but he also cannot help the way his heart threatens to double in size at the way you smile at him. Sleepy-eyed and pliant; all soft touches and tender looks.

Fred shakes his head fondly before padding down the hall to the small room just to the left of the stairs. Any lingering sense of fatigue leaves him now – at the sight of his ten month old daughter, wide awake and fussing. She kicks her little legs in the air, tiny whimpers leaving her mouth with each kick.

A smile Fred didn’t even know he had falls over his face as he reaches for his daughter. The smile was as old as her; reserved only for her.

She shoves her tiny fist in her mouth as Fred settles her on his waist, careful to cradle her head should she need it. Her cheeks are as red as the hair beginning to grow on her head; _a true Weasley_ , Fred thinks to himself as he bounces her gently. “What is this time, bubs?” Fred asks gently, “Was it a nightmare or was it another tooth?”

Your daughter continues to chew on her clenched fist; gargles sounding from her mouth. Fred nods understandingly, “Teething it is. Do we fancy the teething ring tonight?”

Fred continues to speak to her as if speaking to a full grown adult and having a conversation about the weather.

It takes all of five minutes to dawdle to the kitchen where Fred pulls a teething ring from the freezer; all the while maintaining a tight grip on his daughter. In no time at all, they have climbed the stairs again and have settled in the rocking chair placed in the corner of the room. the rocking chair had been a gift from Molly; offering it you in your six month of pregnancy stating that the soothing motions of the chair would help settle the baby into sleep and save your feet from hurting from all the standing. The chair had become your favourite piece of furniture in the first months of your daughter’s life; sitting there hour after hour after each feed, happy to simply watch her sleep but also too tired to walk all of six steps to her cot.

Fred settles in the rocking chair his own mother had comforted him in as an infant and he adjusts his daughter. Setting her into the crook of his arm as he hands her the teething ring, keeping one finger hooked through it as a precaution.

The puffiness of her face begins to calm as the teething ring begins to do its work and sooth her aching gums. As she starts to settle, Fred begins to hum mindlessly, not thinking too much about the melody leaving his mouth. Unorganised notes fall from his lips as he starts to settle his daughter; persuading her to drop back to sleep so he can join you once more in bed, if only for a few hours before the day truly begins.

It takes a while for him to find the tune; to find the right notes and lyrics before beginning to sing quietly. He doesn’t sing this song often; he prefers to hear you sing it whether it’s to his daughter or to him when another nightmare finds him unprepared. The words and your soft voice lull him back to the land of the living where things begin to make sense and he falls in love with you all over again.

Thinking of this, Fred begins to rock back and forth as he sings the first line to the well-known song: _baby mine, don’t you cry_.

He remembers the day she arrived so clearly; it had been a long labour for you. The midwives joked that you had made such a comfy home for her in her nine months that she simply wasn’t ready to arrive yet, but Fred could hear the note of worry in their voices as Healer after Healer would check in you. Each trying to make the decision of whether to deliver by an emergency c-section.

It had never come to that, thankfully. The process began to speed up and a couple of hours after the initial worry began, Fred was handed his bundle of pink blankets. He was finally able to greet the person he had been waiting nine months to meet.

Fred watches his daughter as she chews on the teething ring; her tears no longer falling and her cheeks finally back to their usual colour. He releases a long held sigh. He didn’t like to admit it to anyone, but ten months in and he still panicked. He still worried in the middle of the night about whether she was okay or whether she was having a nightmare and needed his help.

He watches his daughter relax into his arms; the pain of her teething gums finally leaving her as the coolness of the teething ring and the calming nature of the lullaby begins to work its magic. He had been given many gifts over his life; he counted his magic as a gift, and the money Harry gifted him and George to start the shop, but this: holding her – Fred counted it as the best gift of all.

She starts to slow her chewing. The pain having now receded and her eyes beginning to droop. By this time, Fred has sang through the whole song, offering her words of comfort by promising never to part and reminding her of his love for her.

Standing from the rocking chair, Fred takes a moment to stretch out his now stiff limbs and adjust his sleeping daughter from one arm to the other, taking extra care not to wake her. In the few steps to her cot, the heart that had threated to double in size earlier has now tripled in size instead. Making room to fit another aspect of his daughter that he has adored since he first held her in his arms and met your eyes from across the room.

Feeling a presence behind him, Fred turns as he finishes the last verse for the second time to see you watching the both of them with what could only be described as an affectionate look on your face. Happy to see that your daughter has finally nodded off in his arms, he continues to sing through the second verse as he places her gently in her cot; her hand still fisted around the teething ring – holding onto it for dear life.

His voice is quieter through the third and final verse; he backs away towards you, his eyes never leaving his daughter until he exits the room. He leaves her door wide open; knowing that in a few hours her cries would start once more, and he would happily answer. He would gladly take her in his arms once more to comfort and cherish her like he had never done before.

Your hand reaches for his as you both pad the small distance to your bedroom. In the dark of the room, Fred asks, “When did you wake up?”

You yawn, answering, “I’ve been awake since you got up to check on her. I didn’t start to move until I heard you go downstairs and heard you shut the freezer door.”

The both of you slide back into your shared bed; already taking up the positions you have slept in for the last few years. Fred’s arm lifts automatically, waiting for you to slip to his side, which never takes you too long. Even after so long together, the desire to be touching him has never abated. The both of you sleep wrapped around each other; hands never straying too far from the other – always some part of you touching each other almost acting as an anchor, keeping the other grounded as they sleep and dream.

Fred pulls you to his side, dropping a kiss to your head – a silent apology before the vocal, “Sorry for waking you, love.”

You shake your head; pressing a kiss to his shoulder, your hand resting on his chest, “Don’t be. I couldn’t help but enjoy the show.”

His fingers tighten where they are wrapped around you, “It’s her favourite song, I’m sure of it.”

“It’s also yours.”

Fred shrugs in the dark, “You sing it better though.”

You frown, “I don’t know, I enjoyed hearing you tonight, and so did she. You have a knack with her.”

Fred laughs, “More like she has me wrapped around her little finger.”

You snort, “That too.”

Fred squeezes you playfully, “She’s got you wrapped around it too, don’t deny it.”

You hum, agreeing, “She has,” Then you say in wonder, “She’s half of us both. I still can’t believe we have her.”

“I know what you mean. It doesn’t seem real sometimes,” Fred sighs happily, “She has your looks though, love.”

“But she has your hair,” You argue, “And we both know that she is going to be absolutely devoted to her father.”

Another laugh leaves Fred, “How could she not? I’m pretty amazing.”

You roll your eyes, “I already know she’ll be your double. I’ll have two of you to worry about.”

“But you’ll always have two of us to sing to.”

“I don’t know,” You drawl, “You did pretty good tonight.”

Fred huffs, “Never as good as you, love.”

You feel your face heat; hiding in his shoulder as warmth floods you from head to toe, “I’m happy I have this with you, Fred.”

Unexpected tears fill Fred’s eyes at your words. He wasn’t a man to cry often; he cried at your wedding and then again when your daughter was born, but it was such a rare occurrence that for tears to spring at your words surprised him just a little. It takes him a moment to reply, “I’m happy I have this with you too, baby mine.”

The nickname has your toes curling and you humming happily. It was after one of the countless times you had sung the song to him that he had started to call you it. Whispering it in your ear in the morning when he greeted you with a long kiss, calling it out to you whenever you entered the shop to meet him for lunch, or simply tacking it on the end of a sentence or question as you sat together on the couch – a random tv show playing and blankets covering the both of you.

Baby Mine would always hold a special place in your heart. Your grandmother had started the tradition which was soon passed down through the generations upon which you took up the mantle the day you found Fred. Singing it to him so lovingly that he whispers the very same words to your daughter as the tears begin to dry on her cheeks in the hopes that it comforts her just as much as it comforts him.

As you drift off back to sleep, safe in the knowledge that your daughter sleeps soundly for now, you hum the words of the song that will always resonate within your heart: _never to part, baby of mine._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a kudos and a comment if you enjoyed!
> 
> Tumblr: @iliveiloveiwrite


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